


blood of my blood

by seesawthefourth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Brothers, Brutal Murder, Fluff, M/M, Master/Servant, Oisuga Weekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seesawthefourth/pseuds/seesawthefourth
Summary: lizzie borden au where oikawa kills his parents and kageyama returns early.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Kudos: 13





	blood of my blood

**Author's Note:**

> this is done for day 2 of oisuga weekend 2020.

he's kneeling against the wall, back pressed to the heavy wallpaper as he breathes deeply. 

_in and out._

_in and out._

his hands tremble and ears ring as he lays there, trying to get his bearing. his vision swims but all he can see his red, red, red. red of sheets, red on the carpeted floor, red on the sofa, red splashing everywhere.

he can feel it dry on his hands, can feel sweat gather at the back of his neck. still there's a cold setting in his chest, in his heart which beats harder and harder in his chest. the blood in his veins thrums as he pushes him further back into the wall. 

_breathe oikawa, breathe._

he can smell it, the rotting in the air, feel the red cool on the surface as the eyes turn glassy and skin icy cold. he can hear the flies buzz inside, coming through the open screen door from where he can hear the neigh of the horses and gossip of the maids, the rising call for fresh fruit and vegetables inbetween the smell of animal residue.

he coughs, his hands flying to his mouth to hold it in. it still rings sharply in the still air. he can smell it clearly now, the whiff of the cigarette clinging to the suit and perfume making the room reek.

his vision swims. _breathe_. his hands are clammy and the red hadn't dried enough and it smears across his cheeks. he shudders.

_breathe oikawa. everything is going to be fine._

his vision is blurring again and he looks at his hands, caked with the same crimson he had seen on his father in the drawing room. the red dripping down his neck, stuck to his eyebrow as it seeps in the sofa his father always sat at. 

when he closes his eyes he can see it, the fragile life gone from his father as he lays broken on the sofa. his head on the floor and neck sinking into the sofa's armrest. it dripping, making a puddle of red on the carpet his mother had got cleaned a day ago. 

he swallows past the emotion in his throat. he bites his lip, trying to keep his vision from swimming. 

upstairs the floor creaks, and oikawa forces his thoughts to leave his father in the drawing room and go to the reason for that. 

minutes later, he's pushing himself up to his feet as the world threatens to crumble around. he takes a deep breath, counts before exhaling. it doesn't help, not enough to make him walk to the servant stairs. 

suga would be upstairs, coming down after his afternoon nap. he tries to think how it would look like, him rubbing at his eyes as he tries not to make noise as he walks beside his parent's bedroom. 

he stops there, waiting for suga to come. maybe they are quick, they can staunch the bleeding and the breath which had left his father would return. he can almost see it happen, him going to bed rest and smiling at him. 

he bites his lip. 

his legs threaten to make him fall and he leans on the banister, looking for the silver haired servant to show himself. "suga", he calls. his voice cracks but tears don't threaten to fall. his eyes are as dry as his throat. "go get the docter". 

the boy rounds the corner then, stopping when he notices oikawa waiting for him. his eyes widen, mouth gaping open as no sound escapes him. "go get the docter, suga". he tells him. 

suga climbs down the stairs, nearly running down the wooden stairs to reach him. his hands are burning when he grabs at his shoulder, one hand gingerly touching his bloody cheek. "what happened?". 

he sees horror and fear cloud his features, worry lining as oikawa leans into his touch, savering the feel of his warm hand on his cold cheek. 

he swipes a tongue over his teeth. "someone's hurt father". he finally says. "go get the docter, suga". 

his expression falters, panic flickering over as he looks behind him. it's like he's trying to look through the thin walls, trying to find his blood soaked father. "where?".

"in the drawing room". he wonders if he sounds as detached as he feels, keeping his eyes on suga. 

the servant's eyebrows furrow, his juggler bobbing as he moves to move past him. he can see him walking inside, ruining his sleep in a second when he finds his father's body.

his hand comes to grab his wrist, stopping him from going farther. " father needs the docter, suga".

suga looks back, "you should come with me". his eyes are still so worried. 

oikawa shakes his head, not letting go on the warm wrist. "someone needs to be here when mother returns". 

he can feel his blood pumping through his veins as he brings it forward to kiss the blue vein he feel burning under the thin skin.

suga doesn't blush at that, even if oikawa wants to see the red creep across his neck. there's red on his fingers when he pulls his hand away, nodding as he rushes to leave. he takes the servant door, the screen door slamming shut behind him as he runs.

oikawa stares at the screen door, notices the empty pigeon house at the back of the house, the bedsheets drying on a wire outside. there's no flies trying to come in through the screen door, but can see the neighbour glancing from her property. 

he closes the door before she can see him, the noise ringing the silent house. he's alone, with his father laying in the drawing room. 

his feet drag as he moves to enter the room again. he needs to see if his father is alright, if he has started breathing again. 

he finds him laying there like he had last left him, his glassy eyes staring at him from behind the sofa as he body cools on the sofa. he's still bleeding, though now it's slowed to a thick trickle. his hair is matted in red to his forehead and his skin has turned deathly pale. he reaches to pull at his collar, to put it back in it's place but he steps in close and his shoe slips into the thickening puddle. 

he looks down, watching the puddle break around his foot. the blood, he registers is cool as he moves to smooth the other creases on his suit. his vision is gotten clearer and he catches the blood stuck to his whiskers, to the decoration his mother cherished with her life. 

there's blood everywhere, on the mantle, on the china his mother brought with her - crimson spilling over the heavy drawing room. tea is left cooling on the table, turned into a deep red color. 

his father is cut, loose skin attached to nothing as his head lays still on the floor. the smell of death, the stench of rotting flesh, of fluids pooling dark under his waist and into the foam of the seat. he sits on the floor, locking eyes with his father's, his throat feeling heavy and his hands curling in his suit pants. 

the docter finds him like this, blank eyes staring into the dark pools of blood. oikawa doesn't look up when he gasps behind him, choking on words as he stumbles into the door. 

suga's voice reaches him, his words muffled and he lurches. the docter says something to him, grabbing at his shoulders and squeezing them. "someone's cut father". he tells him. "i found him bleeding like this. docter- ". he looks at him in the eye, feeling his bones shake. "-help him". 

he's out before the docter can say anything, trailing blood and gore outside into the hallway. he wonders if he should have brought the cold tea with him, watch it drain down the sink in dark crimson and stain the yellow of it. 

he follows suga's voice into the kitchen, finds him talking to a maid from the neighbor's house. they both turn when oikawa enters the kitchen, the maid screaming when she sees him. her voice rings in his ears, too loud and high pitched. he grimaces.

suga twitches where he stands, his wide eyes fixated on the bloody knees. he looks like he's physically holding himself to checking on him, sliding his warm hands on his cold cheek and rubbbing under his eye. 

he glares at the maid as he crosses the room to stand beside his servant. the maid has stumbled back, creeping further and further away from him. "where are the officers?". he asks. his mouth feels like sandpaper and even in the kitchen he can taste the rotting flesh in his mouth. 

"they'll be here soon mr. oikawa". the maid stutters. "i'll tell the mistress to make haste". they watch her run through the lawn, past the empty pigeon house and through the fence separating his father's lands to the iwaizumi's.

oikawa breathes out, closing the servant door behind her. the docter hasn't called him out, probably trying his best to save father from his injury. he wonders how long it'll take to sew his head back on it, prop him back on the wet seat and call for him.

he swallows again, his eyes flickering to suga. he's already looking at him, worry dancing in his big eyes and the curve of his mouth. his throat feels dry again as he looks back up from suga's trembling lip.

"i need to breathe". he says.

suga tries to say something but oikawa doesn't need to breathe outside where everyone can see him covered in blood and hysteria. he grabs at his wrist, harshly pulling him away out of the kitchen and into the servant's hallway, from where he first called for suga.

he closes the door behind him, takes a shaking breath in the dark hallway. he thinks he should collapse now but his hands have stopped shaking and even if the emotions is still choking him there's no tears clouding his eyes.

still he lets suga pull him to his hold, wrap burning arms around him and lets him breathe into the crook of his neck. he can feel suga's face crumble as he squeezes his waist.

suga's hugs have always been comforting and now it helps slow his thumping heart down. "oh torru". he whispers in his ear, his hand rubbing circles into his back. oikawa let's himself melt then, to let the familiar hold make the horror running through his veins to calm down.

he exhales into his shoulder, feels a shaky smirk pull at his lips when suga shudders at that. "i can't believe your body can act normal during this, kou-chan". 

"it's all your fault". suga whispers, the words feeling like a secret that shouldn't be out. his thinks of his father's frozen expression of surprise, of his bloody fingers dangling above the floor and his foot bending under his weight, blood washing over everything he is as the heat calls to the flies and makes him sweat gather under his shirt, in his hands and under his brow. 

"i guess it is". he says. suga squeezes him into his body, oikawa feeling his bony waist against own, his thin wrists resting above his hips. oikawa closes his eyes, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. 

they stay like this, suga's rocking them in the darkness until the police arrive and the docter voice calling his name reaches them in the hidden corner. 

oikawa looks at him in the dark, hears his heart thrum back into hysterics as footsteps grow closer and closer, the words louder and louder and oikawa finds himself pulling suga back into his arms, pressing his wet mouth against his. 

he's out of the servant hallway seconds later, closing the door behind him as he answers to the docter's call. 

the docter is wringing his hands when oikawa reaches him, looking blank as he observes oikawa go answer the front door. the lock pops open and the officer's swarm in rich blue. 

"where is the dead body, mr.oikawa?". one of them asks. this one is taller then the others, with turnip hair and collar digging in his neck. he seems new in the force, soft and rigitin ways inly those who believe they can stomach death looks and oikawa wonders if he'll vomit on his father's sifa. 

oikawa points the drawing room. "in there". he drops his hand to his side. "he's going to be fine though". 

few officers give him looks, furrowed eyebrows and hands on his belts and the docter fumbles to answer for him. "he's still in shock officers. shall i join you inside?". 

the officer goes to speak but oikawa speaks above him, turning to the door, feeling his stomach tighten and thickness grow in his throat. "i thought you were going to help him?". 

the docter spares him a pitying look. "he's dead, mr. oikawa. he's gone". 

he's gone to join the officers, warning them before opening the drawing room. between stifled gasps ringing in the round hallway, oikawa catches flies fluttering around his father's head, breathes in the rotting air, catching the glint of a family picture splattered with blood. 

he breathes, hands clunching at his sides. feeling tears he hadn't felt wetting his cheeks dry, oikawa rubs them away, sniffing at his clogged noise. he probably ends up turning his face more red with his father's blood but nobody cares about that yet. 

suga enters the hallway, moving to stand beside him as he pointedly turns his head away from grotesque sight the drawing room is in. "father is gone". he tells suga, staring into the picture as the door closes shut behind the officers. "we need to send for kageyama. he should come pay his respects to father before we are to put him away". 

suga nods, leaving to get the paper needed for the telegram. oikawa doesn't look at anyone until then, staring into the carpeted floor. the servant brings the paper, and he wets the quill into the inkpot to write his quick words. 

_something terrible has happened to father, tobio. return home._

_your loving brother, torru_

he watches suga leave with the rolled up telegram, noticing an officer apporach him with a notepad held in front of him like a shield. "we need you to help fill up some gaps, mr oikawa". he says. 

it's leads to him and then suga go through questions after questions, asking about his mother who stilll hasn't returned from visiting her sick relative and to the uncle who only suga and his father had seen come in the morning. 

the questions paint a picture, of oikawa upstairs in his bedroom and of suga having his midday nap upstairs, of the screen door laying open and his father dying on the sofa. of oikawa finding him, calling for suga and the docter coming in with the officers mere minutes behind. 

the police officer is scrawling everything down when another surprise comes, the officers which had spread around the house for clues earlier find a broken axe in the basement and his mother's demolished corpse in his parents bedroom. 

suga's wobbles beside him and oikawa tells him to follow him in the kitchen. the officer with the notepad follows him, still writing about the tradegy of mrs and mr oikawa of seijoh street. 

he imagines what his mother's body would look like, on the heating radiator they had found her on - head melting and her body crumbled in a heap near the bed like a puppet with no strings. the room heavy with perfume and smell of rot clinging to the bottles and makeup, to the foral bedsheets spread on their bed. 

tobio comes hours later when the sun has gone down and the officers have exhausted their questions. he comes striding in with a terrified hinata, steely eyes flickering over the officers, suga and settling on him. 

oikawa purses his lips, waits for kageyama to speak. the officer's try to give them a semblance of privacy as they shuffle back in the hallway, neither hinata or suga following their footsteps. 

"i saw father". he says in the quiet. if he strains his ear, oikawa can hear iwaizumi aruging with the officer's holding everyone but family outside his voice angry and worried. his throat feels dry again. "we should see mother too". 

oikawa takes a deep breath and rises, nodding. "her face has melted", he tells him as oikawa leads them through the servant hallway to the small rickety stairs leading to the their bedroom's. the real entrance, the one they had used all their lives is swarming with officers, keeping them away and in the kitchen. 

they can hear the officers as they take the path to their parent's bedroom, hear the stairs creek and the wind rattle in the glass. oikawa can even hear tobio alive beside him, walking beside him. his jacket is resting on the arm and the crimson color of his shirt reminds him of the tea his father hadn't managed to drink, of the rust coloring the broken axe. 

their parents bedroom side door is a small thing and it leads them in their closet. tobio pushes their mother's clothes aside as they go further in the bedroom. they see the body first, though that is covered in a white sheet now, their mother's broken hair singed and black with blood. 

skin still clings to the heated radiator and the blood has seemed to make a mess of their room too, rusted crimson staining the sheets and mucking the floor, even their mother's jewelry box which is set lone on the bureau. 

oikawa moves towards it, finds their mother's bloody wedding ring on the dressing table. he slips it in his pocket, finds tobio looking at him when he turns. "what are we going to do, torru?". 

he looks at the door, at the noise growing louder and louder as the officers return to the room. "what can we do?". he says to the still room. "it's our home". 

they slip back into the servant's hallway just before the men return, quietly closing the door behind them. "they found an axe in the basement. father lost the keys to it months ago". 

tobio looks at him, studies him with a sharp look in his eyes. "and the servant hallways?".

oikawa stares into the void. "mother took the keys from suga a day after you left". something moves in there, stares at him. a bloody mouth, a yawning neck. he shivers. "she didn't want him to leave her". 

their mother wanted none of them to leave, not suga who had been wanting to see his family for years , not him wanting to go on another cruise again or tobio who had to beg to father to let him stay with hinata for a week rather then a month he asked for at first. 

their mother, with her chestnut curls and tobio's eyes had been paranoid, worried that everyone would leave her to the empty, lonely mansion she had married herself to. she was dead, well before her time, leaving them in that same haunted house. 

at least, they'll be happier then her, even if seeing their parents bodies wreathed in blood and flies would sear nighmares in their sleep. 

tobio nods and that is all to it. the officers debrief them again before leaving, telling them they would be back tomorrow. the docter leaves an hour later, finally checking on oikawa before leaving with a curt goodbye. 

hinata decides to stay the night and oikawa promises to meet with iwaizumi the next day. and just like that they all turn in for sleep in a house of a fresh murder. 

oikawa takes the guest room, lets hinata sleep in his bed for the night as tobio comes to tell him goodnight. 

"i don't think uncle would come visit us". he says. "not until everything blows over". 

oikawa hums, agreeing. 

"i'll be staying with hinata after the buriel. you can have the house, torru". 

he stays watching the street after tobio leaves, sitting in the chair he haz dragged as he sips at his water. 

once it finishes, he goes downstairs to get the wine his father had bought for his visiting uncle, bringing the bottle with him as he walks to the kitchen, climbs the stairs up and up until he's left staring at the lonely attic door. 

darkness surrounds him, inky and foreboding. lying heavy in a way that made the hairs at the back of his head rise, feel the eyes of him. they follow him, watch him raise his hand to knock. he can almost feel them, the blank eye of his father he seen laying beside his feet and hollow bones of his mother in darkness, breathing down his neck the way only fathoms can. 

he shudders. 

his hands clench at his sides, blunt nails digging into his flesh once twice. he breathes and goes for it. the knuckles make enough noise to run shrill through the air and torru hears a creak downstairs - right under where he stands is the room he shares with his brother, a larger one connected to small closet where tobio slept. 

he wonders, offhandly if tobio was sharing the bed with hinata and if their relationship had progressed from the stilled stage - when father had tried to force tobio to court the pretty girl oikawa had deflowered in his early teens, the one he had smugly told to tobio at night when they lay in bed. 

the door creaks open, catching at something as suga pokes his head out. oikawa smiles charmingly at him, like he hadn't just lost both his parents to a murderer in the morning. 

suga blinks at him, staring disapprovingly at the rusty stains the blood had left on his trousers. unlike tobio, oikawa hadn't bothered to change, it hadn't even occured to him until his brother had pointed it out when they had been talking. later it had felt strange to change, placing the clothes away for suga to clean later felt wrong. 

his parents had died today, when he had been out in the back garden and the house had been left unsupervised. changing out of the waistcoat and pants made everything more concrete. it was too early for him to move on from the tragedy on seijoh street. 

the door is pushed open, once for oikawa to slip inside. the door closes behind him, the noise feeling far too loud in the silent night. like him, the street and the time itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting and waiting for something.

the grandfather clock downstairs chimes downstairs, in the foyer, the noise ringing right in the old floors and making him jump and then grimance. the clock had stuck twelve at midnight, and if his old nanny was right, it was a time for the dead to rise. 

he breathed on the misty air, ignoring the items his family had accumulated through the years - the cheap heirlooms they had no use for was in a box, right beside another filled with broken china suga had broken through the years working for his family. 

if he remembered correctly it was suga's seventh year here, spent in a frugal household where he was allowed to only work and sleep. if oikawa was bored, he'll call suga to join him in his bedroom and go over the book they had been studying together months ago. 

"couldn't sleep?". suga mutters from behind him. oikawa turns to watch him rub at his sleepy eyes, his old shirt rising up to bare a thin strip of pale skin. it seems trunsclent in the moonlight filtering through the large window. 

there were no curtains framing the glass rectangle, and silvery moonlight spilled over the rickety flooring, leaving darkness to pool around it in heavy curtain. not for the first time, oikawa felt claustrophobic in the small attic, covered in junk and a servant they barely had a space for. 

he shrugged in answer. suga stared at him and oikawa wanted to know what he was seeing. the professionalism bleeding out and leaving dark circles and red rimmed eyes or a smugness still cocooning around his mask. "oh torru", he whispers in the air. 

oikawa closes his eyes, turns away to watch the street. for the first time in his life there's nothing in the street. dung and other waste, yes but no horses or donkeys tied to the posts. it is completely empty, a full contrast to the crowd his brother had told him about. 

suga comes to hug him, his arms tentatively wrapping around his torso. he pushes his nose into his neck and sinks into the warm hug. the heaviness in his heart lessens a bit and he breathes a little easier. it had felt like tight noose wrapping around his neck, tightening further and further as he went into himself. 

if he had known it would've helped, he would've ignored everyone in favour of staying like this for ages - until it wasn't there anymore. "i wonder if it hurt. the docter says it doesn't-". his father's surprised look comes unfiltered in his mind. "- but i'm not too sure". 

suga doesn't respond. 

they stay there, breathing in each other. after what feels like ages, oikawa pulls away. he raises the bottle he had snatched from the kitchen in the air, the moonlight glittering on the dark bottle. 

"do you think that's wise?". 

oikawa rolls his eyes, turns to look at the small wiry bed placed right infront of the window. "no. but i need it". he stops then, gazing at forlornly down the street. "you didn't see them. i'll probably need something even stronger before iwaizumi comes in the morning". 

suga smiles, looking amused at the frown which had come to mar his features. "you don't like his wife". 

"she's too sweet". he complains. it comes like an old habit, when he had been complaining to mother about the scars father had left on his back, whining and feeling frustration burn at his tearbuds. "how can he take someone who can't take it rough". 

suga hums at that but doesn't say anything as oikawa launches onto a tirade. it feels familiar, distracting as oikawa complains and complains until his throat his dry - from his best friend, to his family and the details he had pushed at the back of his mind. "- he had no right to butcher them like that. they were my children, but he didn't care to tell me until i went outside to feed them". 

he stops, feeling like he run a marathon. "do you see him murdering them?". 

suga bits his lip, his eyes unreadable in the darkness. finally he nods and oikawa swallows. "maybe he did deserve it". he says. the words are a whisper, a murmer normally nobody would hear but now it echoes in the silence. 

he looks up and suga hasn't moved. he's still looking at him, like he knew he was breaking at the seams and was waiting for him to take the first move. 

he looks into his dark eyes, hearing his heart thud and continues. "like some kind of morbid irony he had coming ages ago". 

"and your mother?". 

he waits, counts to three. "it wasn't a big secret that she liked burning-" his gaze flickers down, at suga's pale hands destroyed with patchy ill healed burns - "things". 

silence hangs between them, thick as smoke, suffocating them. the distance between them feels larger, even if oikawa knows he can reach forward to grab his hands, pull suga into his arms. it feels larger, the gap wider. 

his heart is beating heavily in his chest, threatening to rip out of its bony cage. his throat feels dry and he swallows, eyes fixated on the pale silver strands falling across suga's face, the shirt titling on one shoulder more then the other. 

suga looks behind him, his throat working and then - "are we sharing the wine?". 

oikawa nearly sighs, nodding. he follows suga to the bed, the wine bottle extended like a piece offering between them as they settle on the side of the bed. it sags under their combined weight, the spring squeaking. it looks like it'll break under them now, like his parents death was a breaking point for it too. 

but it had taken them several times before though, creaking and groaning and making a loud mess at times when they shared the night. this was probably nothing too. 

they share the bottle, taking small sips of the expensive wine between their awaiting hands and mouths. suga doesn't talk to him during it, taking time to savour the taste they don't normally get to snag from the kitchen. though he thinks mullishly, it's his house now and nobody had any right to things more then they did here. 

the wine is bitter, though the taste is more bearable then the blood in his mouth and it leaves him pleasantly buzzed. "i should bring more". he lays down, pushing suga to lay with him. "should i bring more? i think we deserve more bottles, maybe taking a few from father's wine box". 

suga looks at him, there's a hint of a smile on his lips and his hazel eyes are brown under the silvery moonlight. it makes him look grey, dead and yet enchanting. oikawa wants to trace his fingers over the line of his brow, the shape of his nose, brush against his beauty mark. 

he does exactly that, feeling reckless and slightly buzzed. suga watches him do that, there's an emotion burning in his eyes and oikawa wants to unravel it until it forms loose threads for him to read it easily. "i think- ". he says, his voice melodic. "- i think i should be the one saying that". he sounds breathy, like he's the one whose going to break rather then him. 

they hear a door creak open downstairs. "and you should leave. your brother needs you". he adds. 

absently, finger still trace suga's features. "he has hinata". he sighs, pulls his hand away away. "he'll be fine". 

suga exhales through his nose, shifting to examine the ceiling. oikawa waits for him to speak, anticipation blooming in his heart. he wets his lips, stares into the void and wets them again. 

"do you miss them?". he finally says. 

oikawa joins him in his staring, feeling the fathoms rise from the corners of the room. his parents are dead, he reminds himself, butchered the same way his birds had been. in their case, there was no butchering block and mouth to feed. just a wooden floor for them to drop on and dirt to put in. "no". the word somehow feels true in his mouth and he says it again, surer about it then before. " _no_. i think they died with kunmi in the cruise ship and i didn't notice it until now". 

"it doesn't feel real though. not yet, at least". 

"maybe it will when they are buried". suga admits quietly. oikawa thinks about their tightening skin, about gas bursting through it and destroying whatever beauty stillness held on them. 

"maybe". he replies. 

suga shifts, his shoulder rubs against his own. the warmth is welcoming, especially when it makes it easy for then to hold hands. suga still isn't looking at him when he says, "you should leave. the next day would be harder". 

"come with me then". 

his parents death makes it possible, easy even to slip in the guest room and sleep. his uncle wouldn't be there until latter half of month, especially when they would be busy planning a large funeral befitting the oikawa’s.

his parents ghosts would be laid to rest and oikawa will forget the panic of seeing the blood bloom, the skin scorch and guilt running like blood through his veins. "come be with me suga". he says, the words feeling good on his tongue. 

they look at each other before suga surges forward to kiss him fully on the mouth and oikawa pushes the demons at the back of his mind to taste him completely. 

* * *

_i saw iwaizumi in the market today. hinata had begged me to go with him and we saw him by the cabbage stand. did you know his third youngest is named kunmi? i didn't know that._

_he was gone by the time i managed to get out of the line, though. needless to say, i don't think i'll be going to the sunday market anymore._

_your middle brother, tobio_

"i think he's having fun". suga mutters. oikawa cuddles into him on the master bed, having made his parent's bedroom his within a year of their murder. he agrees with him. 

it's mid afternoon and his bones are aching. suga had said the walk would help his bones work well but it had only made it hurt. laying in the soft bed makes the ache easier, the warm body he has curled himself around even better. 

but at least he had been able to see the little four copycats of iwaizumi play in the street, their laughter rising through the hawks of the sellers and blaying on the donkeys.

" _oi_ ". suga suddenly squawks, pushing oikawa away. "don't go to sleep now. we need another plan to get the child away from you". 

the child, he chuckled at the thought was a woman in her early twenties, who had coming nearly every week to meet with the master of the house. "we can just not open the door when she comes to visit". he tells him. 

suga is frowning at him, like he doesn't believe the third time's the charm and the woman would leave him alone. 

oikawa raises an eyebrow, shrugging. "i can just axe her through". 

the frown turns into a scowl, his wrinkles lengthening across his face and suga hits him on the arm. "they're still suspecting you, torru". 

he shrugs again, grinning mischievously at his suspicious lover. "so should i swoop you off your feet infront of her or make a big show of fucking you?". 

he gets hit again, and suga tries to slip away from the warm sheets. oikawa wraps his arms around him and pulls him back into his chest, pushing the letter kagaema had sent to nearly topple over. 

suga snatches it before it does though and places it on his bedside table carefully. it was the first letter kagaema had sent after he had left their first home two weeks ago, hinata waving enthusiastically from behind his brother's back and oikawa didn't want his collection of kagaema's letters to even have miniscule fold in them. 

"you're too old for her though". suga mutters then, smoothing the papers. 

"doesn't stop you from being jealous, now does it suga-chan?". 

another hit lands and oikawa hisses. his arm hurts. 

**Author's Note:**

> father: pikachu face
> 
> did oikawa kill his parents because of money or love? i guess we will never truly know except that when everything stacks up it makes everything a bit easier.


End file.
